


Conspiracy of Silence: Fifth Columnist

by Nomad (nomadicwriter)



Series: Conspiracy of Silence [5]
Category: Harry Potter - Fandom
Genre: Adventure, Backstory, Drama, Gen, MWPP Era, Mystery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2002-02-27
Updated: 2002-02-26
Packaged: 2017-10-05 17:47:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 15,075
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/44400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nomadicwriter/pseuds/Nomad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Severus Snape's fifth year at Hogwarts. Sometimes it's easier to know your enemies than your friends...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: ** J.K. Rowling created and owns Hogwarts, Severus Snape, and almost everything else in this story - for which I will be forever jealous.  
**Author's Note**: The sequel to CoS: Band of Four.

**Fifth Columnist**

Severus Snape paused in his reading and looked up as the owl flew in his window. Unusually, the elderly creature headed directly for him instead of flapping off to look for his uncle. Deftly catching the letter it dropped towards him, he saw that it was embossed with the Hogwarts school crest. However, he had already received his equipment list for the new school year...

Sev tore open the envelope, and pulled out the letter. The Slytherin serpent on the shield at the top winked at him.

> HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF WITCHCRAFT AND WIZARDRY
> 
> _Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore  
> (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_
> 
> Dear Mr. Snape,
> 
> We are pleased to inform you that you have been selected to act as a Prefect for your house in the upcoming year. Please report to the headmaster's office immediately upon arrival on the first day of term.
> 
> Please be reminded that term begins on 1 September, and reading and equipment lists for the new term should have been received prior to this letter. As a Prefect, it is requested that you set a good example by obtaining the correct equipment and proper uniform for the year ahead.
> 
> Congratulations on your new appointment, and good luck in the upcoming term.
> 
> Yours sincerely,
> 
> Trigo Fractalis  
> Deputy Headmaster

Sev regarded the letter thoughtfully for a few moments, then neatly folded it and tucked it inside his robes.

This was going to complicate matters.

* * *

On the train platform, he heard Lucius Malfoy before he saw him, spitting vitriol.

"Never heard anything like it," he spluttered to Colin Crabbe. "My father's never been so furious-" He spotted Sev, and waved him over. "Severus! Have you heard about this? There's been some kind of mistake with the Prefect appointments!"

"Clearly." Severus produced the official letter he'd been carrying around since he received it. "They gave it to me."

"What?" Malfoy snatched it out of his hands in disbelief. He read it once, folded it and then opened it again, as if expecting the name at the top to suddenly change. "This makes no sense!"

"I agree," said Sev dryly. Whilst he was unquestionably leading the pack in academic terms, Prefects were also chosen for their social and personal skills - qualities he had been quite deliberately doing the opposite of cultivating.

Lucius Malfoy, with his powerful charisma, Quidditch skills and not unimpressive test scores, would have been the obvious choice. The fact that he hadn't been awarded the position suggested that somebody somewhere had grave doubts about how he might use the authority he was given.

Sev himself happened to know the truth of that; he was one of the select few that Malfoy had inducted into the Death Eaters, the elitist secret society devoted to the 'purity' of wizardry. Whilst the others might be taken in by Malfoy's grandiose claims of a new order, Sev himself was dispassionately observing, seeking a way to gain access to the inner circle of the Death Eaters and learn their secrets.

Thus far, Malfoy had been able to completely hide his more dangerous side from even his deadliest enemies - James Potter and his Gryffindor friends might hate the Slytherins, but Sev doubted they realised how much deeper the feeling on the other side truly ran. However, the fact Malfoy he hadn't been selected spoke volumes.

There were two Prefects chosen from each house, one male, one female. Generally they were picked by a consensus, but if there was a disagreement then the heads of house would vote. In the event of a tie, Dumbledore could break it. Sev knew the headmaster was probably sharper than his co-workers when it came to reading people; had he been given the casting vote, he might well have vetoed Malfoy.

Anyway, whether it had been unanimous or an extremely tight thing, Sev had been voted in and Malfoy out. And whilst that made things awkward for the former, that was nothing on how furious it made the latter.

"I don't believe it! It's been rigged, somehow. Those damn Muggle-lovers have been whispering in Dumbledore's ear-"

Unfortunately for Malfoy, Sirius Black happened to walk by and catch him in the middle of his rant. The curly-haired Gryffindor stopped in mid-step to give a delighted cackle.

"Hah! They passed you over for Prefect, Malfoy? Oh, you just made my _year_. That's the funniest thing I've ever heard." He giggled almost childishly.

"You know where to shove it, Black," Malfoy told him icily. "Somehow I don't see _you_ wearing a Prefect badge."

"No, but James and Lily are gonna," he said with an airy shrug. Sirius Black was hardly the type to care about badges of rank in any case. Power meant responsibility, something he was pretty close to allergic to.

Malfoy's normally pale face was growing close to purple. "A mudblood and a Muggle-lover? Well, if that's the best house Gryffindor can do, no wonder they wouldn't put me up against them. Wouldn't want to put you to shame, now would we?"

Sirius was always ready to start a fist-fight, but Remus Lupin was there to restrain him. "Let's tone it down a little, Sirius," he suggested mildly. "Let's try not to get expelled before term starts, okay?" He turned a sharp grin on Malfoy. "After all, we'd miss all the fun of watching Malfoy suffer."

He dragged his friend away, leaving Malfoy to grind his teeth impotently.

"It's a disgrace," he said darkly. "A blot on the name of wizardry. Those two, Prefects? Suddenly I'm _glad_ I didn't get in." He nodded at Sev. "I feel sorry for you Severus... having to work with the likes of them. See if you can't accidentally curse them a few times, huh, do us all a favour." He scowled after the departing Remus and Sirius.

* * *

Sev hopped off the train at the Hogwarts platform and slipped away silently through the crowd. He was the first to arrive outside Dumbledore's office, and stood patiently waiting with his back against the wall.

James and Lily came dashing down the corridor moments later, giggling wildly together over something or other. James came to an abrupt stop when he saw Sev, and regarded him warily. "Snape," he said neutrally.

"Potter," returned Sev with a nod. They stood looking at each coolly for a moment, until Lily elbowed James out of the way.

"Behave. Both of you," she admonished. "We're supposed to be Prefects here."

"Pretty poor excuse for a Prefect," James muttered, backing off.

"You'd prefer Malfoy?" Lily muttered back. James shrugged and rolled his eyes.

"Oh, why do I care what the snakes do?"

Their fellow Prefects took a little longer to arrive. The Ravenclaw two were Penny Perks and Sol Ackerley. Penny greeted Lily warmly, but Sol reserved a nod for Sev as well as the other two. Of all the houses, Ravenclaw was the one with closest ties to Slytherin; the only other house that prized careful calculation over going with your gut feeling. Certainly, if Sev hadn't had the inherent deviousness that marked him pure Slytherin, his brains would have made him a natural for their house.

The two Hufflepuffs came dashing up shortly after, both out of breath. "I told you you'd make us late," objected a plump red-haired boy that Sev recognised as Derek Dobbs.

"I wanted to get my owl settled in," shrugged back his partner, Alena Vermisio. Alena was from a very rich, long established wizarding family, and was well renowned for throwing exclusive parties in the holidays. No doubt she would be bribing the younger kids into behaving with the merest hint of an invitation.

His fellow Slytherin was the last to appear; Sev wasn't particularly surprised to see that it was Narcissa. Narcissa Salenica was both bright and beautiful, but extremely cold with it, and so snooty she wouldn't give the time of day to anybody who couldn't explain what their great-great-grandfather had done for the wizarding world. Malfoy had staked his claim to her pretty early on, and even if any of the other boys had been brave enough to challenge him, trying to cosy up to Narcissa was about as effective as doing the same to an ice sculpture.

She arched her brows at the sight of Lily, and said in a faintly long-suffering voice "I wouldn't have expected to see _you_ here."

Lily, ever ladylike, simply stuck her tongue out. "You should meet my sister Petunia," she observed. "You'd love her - you're both a pair of stuck up-"

"Ladies! Gentlemen!" Professor Dumbledore flapped into view, pulling off his usual trick of studiously not hearing what was being said by his pupils. He moved to the entrance of his office and said the password "Fizzing whizzbees." Lily and Alena giggled, but Narcissa just looked vaguely disdainful.

"Come in, come in." Dumbledore gestured expansively. They all crowded in, most of them curiously. Sev had been inside the office before, but most students went their whole time at Hogwarts without ever getting to see it.

Dumbledore's office was eclectic as his personality, stuffed with fascinating artefacts of all descriptions. James, never one to let well enough alone, immediately started surreptitiously poking and prodding things. Lily elbowed him in the ribs and hissed at him to behave himself.

Snape, although he didn't let it show on his face, was quietly amused. James looked faintly embarrassed, but did as he was ordered. He and Lily were getting more like an old married couple with every passing year.

"Now; to business," said Dumbledore. "Congratulations, all of you; I have no doubt that you will all do excellently in your new positions. If you'd like to take your badges?" He produced a small box from out of nowhere, in which lay eight coloured Prefect badges. He offered it around, and when it came to Sev he picked out one of the green ones and pinned it to his robes.

When they all had them pinned on, the headmaster beamed at them proudly. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to take my place at the feast. No doubt you'd all like to go and join your friends? Your first duty will be to guide the first years to their dorms at the end of the feast. Professor Fractalis will talk to you about your other Prefect duties sometime next week. Congratulations, all."

He dashed off in a hurry, as if until that moment he'd completely forgotten the speech he made at the same time every year. The Hogwarts headmaster had quite perfected the art of looking vaguely confused about life in general; Sev, however, suspected it was far more of an act than most people ever realised.

As the newly-made Prefects trickled out of the office, James suddenly grabbed Lily's hand. "Did you cut yourself, Lil?" he asked, alarmed.

"Huh?" She rubbed her fingers together and inspected them. "No. I think the colour's rubbing off this badge." She ran her fingertips over the Gryffindor badge, and they came away streaked with red.

"Hey, mine too!" observed James.

"Ours are okay," Derek told him.

"It's probably a sign," Narcissa told him snootily. "You don't deserve to be Prefects, and even the _badges_ know it."

"More like it's a sign of how those idiot Slytherins enchanted all the badges last year," Lily told him. "Remember how Professor Vitae spent ages trying to get the enchantment undone?" An enterprising group of Slytherins had put a spell on the Gryffindor Prefects so that their badges spelt out an entirely _different_ word beginning with P. Professor Vitae had _not_ been pleased.

"Yeah - and Malachite undid it in like three seconds," James observed. "Interesting, huh?" He gave the Slytherins a suspicious glance.

"Yes, Potter, our head of house has nothing better to do with his time than writing rude words on students' badges," Snape said dryly.

They returned to the feast, and Sev slipped into his customary place beside Malfoy. However, the look the blond boy turned on him was noticeably cooler than usual. "Ah, I see the _Prefect_ has seen fit to grace us with his presence," he observed. It was couched as a gentle jibe, but Sev could feel the steel behind it all the same.

Malfoy had always had some serious control issues; he knew Sev was brighter than he was, and it grated. His position within the Death Eaters gave him the edge, but it was an advantage he jealously guarded. He might be scornful about the school and all of the teachers and pupils in it, but that didn't mean he didn't expect to be showered with honours for his brilliance. He had naturally expected to be a Prefect, and losing the position was a kick in the teeth. Losing it to the second-in-command who constantly threatened his position...

This was _not_ good news for Snape's staying on the right side of Malfoy. This year, the fine line he tiptoed along was going to be narrower than ever...


	2. Chapter 2

"Hem. Ahem." Despite the relatively small crowd of eight students he was addressing, Professor Fractalis was clearing his throat as nervously as ever. Public speaking always made him tongue-tied, although give him a class of students and an Arithmancy text, and he could talk forever. He was a quiet, very shy man, and quite spectacularly unsuited to his duties as Deputy Headmaster. Promoting a man like Fractalis had Dumbledore's fingerprints all over it; the headmaster had something of a subtle need to 'fix' people.

Sev, not exactly renowned for his gregarious nature, didn't quite see why Fractalis should be forced into having social skills if he didn't want them. He was probably much happier curled up on his own with a book, something Sev could definitely sympathise with.

Never mind James Potter or Malfoy's jealousy, Sev was most irked over being a Prefect for the way it cut into his private time. He was the kind of person who needed a lot of space to himself, and being on constant call to help out students he really wasn't keen to talk to was something less than a thrill. On the other hand, it gave him a little leeway to return to his old habit of late night strolls, something he'd been sorely missing.

Most of the Prefects looked fairly keen - for now, at least - although Sev was his usual impassive self. Narcissa was attempting to look unimpressed, and wasn't quite managing it; the Slytherin thirst for glory was too strong, although Sev suspected Malfoy had made some fairly scathing remarks. Never mind that she was supposedly his girlfriend, she had something he didn't and so he had to belittle it.

James and Lily made a much more convincing example of domestic bliss, although neither looked quite their usual bouncy selves today. Lily looked a little pale, her eyes a tiny bit too bright as if she was a touch feverish. It would be very like Lily to soldier on without admitting to being sick, especially when it came to something important like Prefect duties.

Fractalis coughed again, and shuffled papers. "Ahem. Thank you all for, uh, for coming. As I'm sure Professor Dumbledore has told you, we're uh, we're very confident that you'll all do very well as Prefects." He brushed his hair back from his face.

"As you know, this is a, a fairly trying time for wizardry. In these times, it is imperative that students obey the school rules."

"You mean it wasn't before?" said James quietly. Lily smiled at him, although it was a weak reflection of her usual full-throated chuckle. She was sitting with her head against his shoulder, and he was absently playing with a coil of her hair. Sev had no doubt that if he made a snarky remark at some later date, she would claim illness as an excuse. Though Lily was well aware of his people-reading skills, she seemed bound and determined to prove that she could defy them if she chose. He did wonder exactly who she thought she was fooling, though. Everybody _knew_ James and Lily were crazy for each other.

Lily had befriended Sev in the first year, largely against his will. She had helped him in thwarting a murder plot, understanding - if not liking - his justifications for joining Malfoy's organisation to work from within. Lily was far from stupid, but she was fiery and quick to righteous indignation; she knew or suspected the depths his chosen course of action might drive him to, and she didn't like it one bit.

She seemed to have appointed herself the job of substitute conscience, something which would be less help than hindrance on his long-term spying mission. Especially when she was a mudblood, and hence a deadly enemy of the group he was posing as a part of.

Sev had managed to avoid her for some time, but had been forced to let her in on a few things when a Death Eater raid had threatened the school in the previous year. Now it was going to be even more difficult for him to keep out of Lily's way.

They listened as Fractalis outlined their duties, amidst much stammering. This year, not surprisingly, the emphasis was security above all else.

"Now, I know it's not, um, the nicest thing in the world to feel like you're reporting on your friends-"

"That's all right for Snape," spoke up James. "He doesn't have any." Lily smirked, and Sev just smiled thinly. Smile in the right way, and you could convey a world of contempt without saying a word. Not that he actually cared what James thought, of course, especially since he'd deliberately engineered it so he thought that way, but continuing the 'feud' with the Gryffindors was second nature by now.

Fractalis took a leaf out of his headmaster's book and forged on regardless. "As I say, it may seem a little... harsh, but it's absolutely essential. Remember, the rules are there for a reason." His voice grew stronger now; as an Arithmancer, Fractalis was a firm believer in logic and rules. "This is not about punishment, it's about safety. If students aren't where they're supposed to be, we can't protect them properly."

They all knew he was talking about the Death Eater raid from the previous year. Then, the enemy had strolled in bold as brass and started attacking; next time, their approach might be far more devious. If students couldn't be accounted for, nobody would know if they were missing or not.

Lily was the first to voice the shared thoughts aloud. "Did they catch them, Professor?"

"What?" he asked vaguely, train of thought derailed.

"The ones who attacked us last year. Did they catch them?"

"Death Eaters," hissed James, and there was a half-seen shudder that rippled through the room. Snape's classmates were older now, coming up for sixteen, and beginning to pay far more attention to the world outside Hogwarts' walls. They had all heard the dark rumours of people disappearing and the Dark Mark being raised above empty houses.

Fractalis spluttered incoherently for a moment, the mention of Death Eaters seemingly disturbing his nerves. "I- I- the, uh, the Ministry of Magic would handle that side of things, I, I wouldn't really know about that." Sev was certain that translated as 'no'. How could they have? No one had really seen the two attackers' faces, and Sev didn't think anybody but him and Lily even knew about the Dark Mark tattoos every Death Eater had hidden away on their arms.

The deputy head quickly changed the subject. "And, now, as I say, although being a Prefect is a, a great responsibility, it also carries with it certain privileges." Alena's eyes practically lit up, and she nudged Penny excitedly.

"In addition to your own house common rooms, there is a Prefects' common room that you can all share, and the Prefects have their own bathrooms."

"Bathrooms?" _That_ caught Narcissa's attention.

Alena nudged Penny again. "They've got, like, a bath as big as a pool in there. My sister told me!"

"Oh, I could kill for a good long soak," groaned Lily wearily. James looked a little dazed to be loaded up with that particular mental image.

Fractalis lead them down to the Prefects' Common Room, and showed them the password to get in: "Mahogany".

The Prefects' room was smaller than the House Slytherin Common Room, obviously, but it was in considerably better repair, looking more like a teacher's office than a student room. There were glass-fronted bookshelves stacked with advanced texts, although looking at the titles Sev saw he had already read most of them.

There were eight comfortable chairs arranged in a ring, so the Prefects could all sit together - although Sev found it hard to imagine that happening this year, somehow. "_Nice_ digs," said James appreciatively, looking around.

Professor Vitae was waiting outside when they emerged. "Girls, if you'd like to come with me? I'll show you how to get into your bathroom whilst Professor Fractalis takes the boys." James, Sol and Derek all made disappointed faces.

"Okay." Lily yawned as she moved to join the teacher, rubbing her eyes. Looking at her hands, she seemed to remember something, and moved to unpin her badge. "Professor, can you do something about these-"

Professor Vitae stalled her with a hand. "Are they _still_ staining people's hands?" she frowned. She turned to Professor Fractalis. "Trigo, are you _sure_ Carnus didn't have something to do with this?"

Fractalis looked deeply uncomfortable to be asked such a question in front of students. "I, I-" he stammered. "I don't see why. It seems such a, such a childish little prank."

Vitae rolled her eyes. "And God forbid the great Carnus Malachite ever do anything childish. You're quite right, he's a paragon of maturity." Narcissa scowled and Sev followed her lead, whilst James grinned. Vitae fingered Lily's badge thoughtfully. "Still, bleeding badges... it seems like his kind of symbolism."

Lily started to unpin it again. "Do you want to take this? I can-"

"No, no, keep that, dear." She frowned. "Whoever is behind this, they want House Gryffindor to look bad. If our Prefects take their badges off, then they win." She nodded at James and Lily. "You two keep hold of those for the moment, and I'll speak to Professor Dumbledore about getting you some more."

James placed a hand over the badge on his own chest. "Nobody's having _my_ badge off me while I'm alive," he proclaimed melodramatically.

"Who'd want it?" Sev said, too quietly for Vitae to hear. James scowled at him, but wasn't ready to pick a fight in front of his head of house.

Professor Vitae sighed and shook her head. "Right. Come on, girls. Bathrooms." They marched off.

* * *

Over the next few weeks, Sev slotted comfortably enough into his new Prefect duties. Students were encouraged to ask the Prefects for advice and help, but very few of them tried that on with him, even out of the Slytherins. However, out of all the Prefects, he had the most success at commanding authority; where the others might argue back and forth over minor offences, Sev could put down rebellion with a single arched eyebrow.

The role fitted him well enough, although he quickly became bored with the level of stupidity on display. Sneaking out in the middle of the night or breaking into classroom with a _purpose_ was all very well, but why do it just because you were bored? It irritated him that people could be that mindless, and he perpetuated his nasty reputation by snapping at anybody he caught; especially, for the benefit of Malfoy, any of the Gryffindors.

Professor Malachite was certainly pleased with the way Sev handled his authority, and held him up as a model of a successful Prefect. Predictably, Malfoy didn't like that _at all_.

Malfoy was jealous of Sev's new position, but he was caught by both his need to pretend he didn't care and the fact that he was smart enough to know he needed Sev. Voldemort had shown a certain amount of interest in his second in command, and Malfoy was both threatened and puffed up about that. It reflected well on him for his second to be valued; provided he _stayed_ a second.

Malfoy's irritation spilled over into his school life; petty and vindictive at the best of times, now he was positively lethal. Since he couldn't pick on Snape without causing himself problems, he chose the nearest available targets; coincidentally, embodying several of his pet hates mixed together.

"Hey, Potter," he called out to James as they came out of Potions. "Still dragging your mudblood whore around after you? I wouldn't get too close; you might catch something. Oh, wait - you already did." The assembled Slytherins cackled triumphantly.

Lily appeared to have some variant on the Muggle flu; she'd been to Madame Florence more than once, but despite an endless supply of Peppercup Potions (and the smoking ears that came with them), she had only seemed to worsen over the past few weeks. Pale and looking very drained, she could have been forgiven for retreating to her dorm and sleeping it off; but, being Lily, she refused to give in.

Malfoy was right; whatever Lily had, James was showing the first signs of going down with it. His eyes were red, and unlike Lily he'd managed to pick up an incredibly irritating dry cough. Considering nobody else seemed to have got ill, there had been many raised eyebrows and smart comments about 'swapping spit'.

James balled his hands up into fists, presumably ready to defend Lily's honour, when Pete Pettigrew's voice was raised in alarm from inside the classroom. "James! Quick, it's Lily!"

James looked panicked and rushed back in. Everybody else followed, the Slytherins hanging back in the doorway so they could see what was going on without looking like they cared.

Lily was collapsed on the floor, Sirius supporting her head with a worried expression on his face. "Come on, Lil, talk to me," he pleaded. James leapt straight over the desks between them and skidded to her side.

"What the hell happened?"

"I don't know man, she just collapsed!" said Sirius. "Professor! Can't you-"

Professor Ephemeria was hurriedly searching through her shelves of potions. "Hang on, hang on, hang on- ah!" She pulled down a jar of some red substance Sev didn't recognise and flipped the lid off. "She needs to breathe this." She tried to hold it under the fallen girl's nose, but James practically wrenched it out of her hands to do it himself.

"Come on, Lily, please, Lily." A moment later, she coughed, and weakly tried to sit up. James wrapped his arms around her to support her, and Malfoy made a disgusted noise.

"Ugh. I'm gonna puke."

Lily, being Lily, was already struggling to get up. "I'm _fine_! I was just dizzy for a minute, I didn't eat breakfast, I'm okay now." She elbowed James. "James! Get off of me!"

"You're not fine," he objected, but he helped her stand up - without relinquishing his hold on her middle. "Lean on me. You should be in the hospital wing."

"I've _been_! It's nothing, it's just flu."

"Lily, you should probably get yourself checked out again just in case," interjected Professor Ephemeria gently. "James, Sirius, you take her down. And Lily - _don't_ come back to your lessons after." They all knew what Lily was like.

"I'm o_kay_," insisted Lily, pushing off James and Sirius to walk unassisted. Malfoy was blocking her way out of the door, however, and she scowled down at him. "What are you looking at, Malfoy?" She pushed past him, and he made a big show of scrubbing at his robes as if he'd been touched by something disgusting. James scowled at him, but he was too busy chasing after Lily to do anything.

Sirius paused to point a finger at Malfoy. "One word, Malfoy, I'm warning you."

"Ooh, I'm scared," said Malfoy, pretending to knock his knees together in fear. But he stood back to let Sirius and Peter pass unmolested; only, Sev was sure, because Professor Ephemeria was watching them.

"What was all that about?" frowned Colin, as they headed in the direction of their next lesson.

"Maybe she's pregnant," suggested Avery nastily. Malfoy mock-shuddered.

"Bloody hell! Mini Potters? Don't scare me like that!" With another round of raucous laughter, they continued on their way.

Sev, though, was mulling over events thoughtfully. He knew, maybe better even than James, that Lily was no weakling girl, and he didn't give much credit to Avery's gossip-mongering suggestion. If Lily had fainted, there had to be something pretty seriously wrong. And considering she was the most high-profile of the very few mudblood students to remain at Hogwarts... well, "coincidence" was not a word Sev Snape put too much stock in.


	3. Chapter 3

Under much protest, Lily was confined to her dorm for the following week. James spent as much time as humanly possible plotting ways to sneak in and see her, and the rest of it wandering around coughing and looking miserable.

The next weekend, Sev was sitting in the Prefects' Common Room reading when the two of them came in. James was fussing over his girlfriend like a mother hen.

"I still say you shouldn't be up," he objected.

"Did I not tell you I was better?" Lily growled at him. She looked it, too, although not totally. She was still pale, but less like one of the walking dead. The bed rest had obviously agreed with her.

"Okay." James pulled a face. "We can stay here a little while if you really want, but then I wanna take you off to bed."

That seemed like a good cue to announce his presence. Sev allowed himself to snort and said "I think we already knew that, Potter."

James whipped around, face flaming, but Lily giggled. "_Lily_," he whined, dismayed by this traitorous response.

"Sorry," she said, still giggling. "But you totally asked for that."

James scowled at Sev, bright red with embarrassment. "Keep your mouth shut, Snape," he advised.

"I think you'd be better off taking your own advice," he said pointedly.

Behind him, Lily was shaking. For a moment, Sev thought she was still laughing, but then he realised something was wrong. "Potter, you might want to stop glaring at me and pay some attention to your girlfriend," he advised.

James frowned, but turned and ran to Lily's side when he saw the way she was shaking. "Lily! God, Lily, what's wrong?" She was shuddering more and more violently now, as if she was having a convulsion.

He grabbed for her, but she shook out of his grasp and collapsed to the floor, convulsing wildly now. Sev's mind abruptly flew back a few years to when he'd last seen a similar fit. Suddenly, he knew _exactly_ what was making Lily ill, _and_ how it had been administered.

James, though, didn't have the slightest clue, and was looking extremely terrified. "Lily!" He gripped her by the shoulders, completely unsure of what to do. He looked up and his eyes met Sev's.

"Help me!" he said desperately. If he even remembered that Snape was his deadly enemy, the importance of that was lost in his fear and confusion. "Please, I, I don't know what to do!"

Sev made a split-second decision, which might or might not have involved a careful weight up of the pros and cons of acting. He hopped out of his chair and knelt down beside the spasming Lily, helping the other boy support her.

"Hold her up; we don't want her to swallow her tongue or anything," he ordered. "And give her some room to breathe!" He pulled open her outer cloak, not entirely coincidentally yanking off the Prefect badge that held it in place.

"What's happening to her?" demanded James fearfully.

"It's some kind of seizure. It should pass in a minute, she'll be okay as long as she can breathe properly." It wasn't medical knowledge that made him so sure of that, but James didn't need to know how he knew it.

Despite the fact that he and Snape had long been enemies, it didn't seem to occur to James to doubt his word. The ability to keep a completely calm voice in times of crisis could work wonders.

Sure enough, Lily's convulsions began to subside, and abruptly she sucked in a shuddering breath. "Lily!" The world of relief in James's voice was clearly audible.

"James." She blinked blearily, and frowned up at the other boy. "Severus?" Either she was genuinely surprised to have him come to her rescue, or she'd retained the presence of mind to act that way.

"Um..." James wasn't sure what to say, suddenly remembering himself but not being unreasonable enough to abruptly snap at Sev after the way he'd helped. Sev solved part of his problem by quickly letting go of Lily and standing up.

He made a big show of opening the hand which held the Prefect badge, and grimacing at the red stains all across his hand. "What's _wrong_ with these stupid things?" he demanded loudly.

Fortunately, James wasn't particularly slow. His eyes suddenly widened behind his glasses, and he wrenched his own badge off. "The badges! They're poisoned!"

Sev allowed the badge to drop from his fingers, but his cover required him to scowl and say "Who'd care enough to poison _you_?"

James hesitated, natural instinct to pin it on the Slytherins somewhat muted by current events. Luckily, Lily was on the ball. "Death Eaters," she said loudly. "Should've known they wouldn't go for a mudblood Prefect." She coughed, still looking dangerously pale.

"Lily!" James sounded shocked.

"It's only a word, James. It can't hurt me," she reminded him sharply.

"Unlike this stuff," he said, looking down at the two badges where they lay on the floor. He turned his gaze back to Lily, and looked deeply concerned. "You took it off; you'll be okay now, right?" He seemed to have completely forgotten that he himself had been exposed in his worry over Lily.

Sev figured it fit his persona to be scathing about James's short-sightedness. "It's poison, Potter, you've already got it in your system. All that means now is that you won't get a stronger dose."

James's hands balled into automatic fists, and then he paused. "Yeah? Well then, you fix it."

Sev frowned at him. "You what, Potter?"

"You fix it! You're the Potions genius - make me an antidote!"

James had managed to provide him with a rather neat way out of this, but he had to protest anyway. "Why the hell should I?"

James nodded to Sev's red-stained hand. "Because, in case you've forgotten, you got poisoned too."

Actually, Sev was just a hairsbreadth away from certain that he was in no danger, but James didn't know that. He compressed his lips into a tight line, and said sharply "Then we'd better do something about it, hadn't we?"

* * *

Sev would have been amused at the symmetry if it hadn't been a bad time to let his inner smirk show. Here he was again in the exact same Potions lab he'd first tutored Lily four years ago. Here he was, helping his supposed deadly enemies. Forced into it or not, that wasn't likely to wash well with Malfoy - so it was just as well he'd cottoned onto something that would excuse his actions.

The second Lily had gone into convulsions, he had thought of Erica Swift; an older student who had fallen afoul of a nasty little concoction of Malfoy's. It was a kind of poison that only affected mudbloods - and it came in the form of a blood-red powder. The second he had remembered that, it had all made sense.

Or nearly all. This little trap had been devised purely for Lily; he was guessing they'd poisoned both badges simply because there was no way of telling which would be hers. The plan must have been to trickle the poison into her system slowly enough that the progression looked like a natural illness. Insofar as it had gone, it had worked.

But... James had become ill. Only over this last week or so, and not very severely... but he had definitely become ill.

James Potter might be the antithesis of your average Death Eater in nearly all respects, but there was one way in which they were perfectly matched. The Potter family were pureblood all the way; uncounted generations of wizards and witches stretching back through the ages. Malfoy's perfectly self-contained little poison had mutated.

Whether James had become ill through the persistent trickle of poison into his system or through close contact with Lily was open to debate, but either way it spelt serious trouble. If the Death Eaters had drawn up schemes to unleash their weapon on the world, they could forget it. If it could mutate once, it could do it again, and all of a sudden the purebloods might find themselves in as much danger as their enemy.

With all that in mind; well, naturally he _had_ to follow James's orders and develop an antidote.

Any other student, indeed any qualified wizard who hadn't made a specific study of Potions, might be totally stumped. But Sev had read every available text on the subject, he'd had experience developing potions without using a set recipe, and he had somewhere deep down an instinctive grasp of the subject. With part-memory, part-instinct, he easily pulled ingredients together and mixed them however it felt right. The first attempt didn't satisfy him, nor the second, but when he poured a drop of his third potion on his stained hand, the redness turned clear with an audible hiss.

He turned to the impatiently pacing James. "It's done."

James eyed the blue liquid suspiciously. "That's your antidote? It sounded like acid!"

Sev proffered his now stain-free hand. "Does this look burned to you?"

"Yeah, but that's hardly the same as drinking it." James hadn't been at all happy when Sev had brusquely informed him that if he wanted to get read of a poison inside him, he was going to have to drink the antidote.

Sev sat back with his most indifferent shrug. "Trust me. Don't. See if I care."

James looked at the potion with distaste. Then, with a concerned expression, he looked across at Lily. She'd made an effort at seeming her usual self on the walk over to the Potions lab, but Sev's experiments had taken time, and that had sapped her strength. She was leaning on the worktop, a tiny distance away from falling into a deep sleep.

James stared at her for a long moment. Then he turned to Snape, and ordered "Give me some of that. I'll drink it first."

"Whatever." Sev poured some out into a beaker and handed it to him. "Knock yourself out."

James regarded the blue antidote with some trepidation. Then he grimaced, and downed it in one gulp. Immediately, he cried out in disgust. "Ugh! God, what's _in_ that?"

Sev shrugged again. "You want sugar, go to Honeydukes. I'm not here to make your life easier." Truth to tell, it would have been simplicity itself to tweak a few things and make the potion more palatable, but that had hardly seemed the sensible thing to do.

James looked ready to murder him, but instead he forced himself to take a deep breath. Then he paused, looking almost comically surprised, and took another. "Hey, I'm not coughing! I think I'm cured."

"Oh, happy day," said Snape, completely expressionlessly. James scowled at him, but he couldn't hold it for long in the face of his relief. He dashed over to the cooling cauldron and scooped out another dose.

"Lil. Come on Lily, drink this for me." She groaned at having to raise her head, but he slipped and arm around her shoulders and managed to get her to drink it. She smacked her lips, and grimaced.

"Ack, that's foul."

"Oh yeah." But James was grinning at her. "How'd you feel?"

"Better," she said, sounding as surprised as he had. The change flowing through her could almost be followed by eye. Her milk-white skin began to redden up to a more natural colour, and the brightness in her eyes returned. "Actually, I feel great."

James made a cry of delight, and impulsively kissed her on the cheek. Lily blushed and pushed him off. "Stop that." She looked up at Snape and ordered "Quiet, you," at one glance at his expression.

James, however, refused to be downhearted. He hugged Lily against him, and said "God, you scared the hell out of me! I'm so glad, I could, I could- I could almost hug Snape!"

"And I could drop-kick you through those double doors over there," Sev told him warningly.

"I said almost," he said, grinning. He hesitated, and then got up and went over to their unlikely saviour. "I know you can't stand me and hell, I don't like you very much either, but... thank you." He held out a hand for Sev to shake.

Sev just looked at him until he dropped it. "Potter, you'd be ill-advised to take this as evidence I give half a knut whether you live or die."

James scowled at him, then shrugged and grinned. "Whatever, man." He turned around, and walked out. Lily trailed after him, pausing only to silently mouth 'liar' at Snape. He gave her his best Malfoy sneer in reply.

When they were gone, Sev quickly poured the rest of his antidote into a couple of potion bottles and stopped them up. He would have to give a sample to Malfoy to pass on to his contacts, and it seemed like a good idea to keep some for himself. Then he set to clearing up the Potions lab.

It wouldn't matter if Professor Ephemeria caught him in there alone; he was often up to extra-curricular experiments. The danger had been if he'd been seen working for his supposed deadliest enemies.

He had to trust that Lily would convince James not to tell anyone of his involvement. That should hold true for their fellow students - James would hardly like to admit to being indebted to Snape - but no doubt the two Gryffindors would report the poisoning attempt in full to someone on the staff. Which made it almost certain it would get back to the Death Eaters.

He knew he could talk himself out of trouble, especially with the knowledge that the hex had jumped to a pureblood wizard, but it would hardly endear him any further to Malfoy.

Malfoy would take blind dislike over logic any day - after all, that was practically a required qualification for becoming a Death Eater. Despite the fact that Sev's actions had been the only ones possible to keep his 'loyalties' a secret and prevent a mass epidemic overtaking mudblood and pureblood alike, Malfoy would focus on him having become 'some kind of Muggle-lover'.

What little trust Sev had won himself was rapidly going down the pan. Malfoy already blamed him irrationally for the failure of last year's Death Eater raid, as if by staying as a rearguard himself he might have ensured better success. Actually, that was probably true, but only because Sev had secretly masterminded the resistance. He was a pro at playing both sides against the middle, and whilst this new twist made things far more complicated, he could wriggle his way around it.

It wasn't Malfoy he was worried about, nor even the staff Death Eater. It was doubtless the latter who had masterminded this little scam, since Malfoy couldn't have got access to the badges, or laid a suitable enchantment to keep the poison flowing. That unknown staff member would doubtless be extremely annoyed, and might keep a closer eye on Sev - but he always behaved as if he was being watched in any case.

No, this little escapade had earned him something far more dangerous than Malfoy's spite or the Death Eater's scrutiny... James Potter's reluctant gratitude. If he wanted the world to keep believing the personality he projected, he was going to have to do something about that... and fast.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next few weeks, Sev waited patiently for a confrontation with Malfoy; it never came. Did the other boy know about what had happened in the Prefects' Common Room? He remained as arrogantly aloof as ever, giving no hint as to whether his Death Eater contacts had told him or not. Sev was intrigued by this development, but neither raised nor lowered his guard in response; his guard was always up.

James Potter had said nothing - not that Sev gave him a chance to. If he ever felt the need to throw a distraction in their path, it only took a few choice words to set off Sirius. A couple of times he caught James frowning thoughtfully at him, but he always returned the gaze with a cold look or a sneer.

About two weeks after the incident with the poison, Professor Malachite pulled him aside after Defence Against the Dark Arts. "Severus," he said with a nod. "I heard about your quick thinking a few weeks ago; you may well have saved some lives."

Sev returned his sharp gaze levelly. "I did what was necessary," he answered. There was no guaranteeing where anybody's loyalties lay; the trick was to walk the neutral line at all times.

Malachite nodded, stroking his goatee beard. "Nonetheless; very quick thinking. And you haven't been bragging about it, either."

Sev shrugged. "They're not exactly my friends."

"Which makes it all the more commendable." The teacher leaned back against his desk, and regarded his student thoughtfully. "Tell me, Severus; have you given any further thought as to what you'll do when you leave school?"

"That's two years away yet," he pointed out.

Malachite smiled slightly. "Let it never be said that Severus Snape doesn't think ahead. Surely you have some idea?"

"I'm keeping my options open." Sev's _ideal_ career would involve being locked in a room on his own and paid to read books. Failing the practicality of that, he wouldn't be adverse to going into academia; even into teaching, provided somebody could guarantee all of his students would be intelligent. He had found it a surprisingly enjoyable test of his brainpower to tutor Lily, but he couldn't imagine getting much of a kick from hammering basics into the likes of Colin Crabbe.

However, his choice of career was something that would rely very heavily on where his connections with the Death Eaters took him next. Severus had never been the type to try and make plans without knowing all the variables.

Malchite nodded thoughtfully, as if pleased with this response. "Good, good. Always a wise move." He straightened up. "Well, now. You think on it for a while, and if you come to me in your final year, it maybe that I can... open some options for you."

Sev, as he always did, simply nodded and filed the cryptic statement away for future reference.

* * *

Christmas rolled on, with little of note disturbing the more mundane aspects of school life. It was both amusing and worrying, Sev reflected, how quickly people just returned to their normal routines in the face of something like the raid at the end of last year. That was how a group like the Death Eaters could come to power in the first place; people preferred to bury their heads and pretend the problem didn't exist than tackle it.

Having only his uncle for family and no particular homing instinct, Sev always stayed at the school in the holidays. It suited him far better than the rest of the year; school was always better when it was close to empty.

At Christmas, he usually received a stack of books from his uncle, and was more than satisfied with that. Mostly his only relative vastly underestimated his academic level, but Sev wasn't troubled by that. There was no such thing as a useless book.

This particular Christmas, however, his uncle's faithful old barn owl was not his only avian visitor. Whilst he was curled up with a nicely complex Arithmancy text, a sleek, unfamiliar eagle owl zoomed in through the window and away again, leaving a small slip of paper to flutter to the ground. He picked it up, and saw that there were only four words written on it.

_Midnight. Portkey. As before._

* * *

Sneaking out on Christmas night was no particular hardship. Teacher patrols were all but non-existent over the holidays, and right now the vast majority of the staff were no doubt either in drunken slumbers or attempting to head that way.

It was no trouble for him to recollect the route to the Portkey clearing Malfoy had led them to the year before. In fact, Sev had been back in between, and seen that the black-veined rock that was used as a transporter had vanished. In the middle of the Forbidden Forest or not, it had stood out enough that some unlucky student might pick it up.

Clearly, the Death Eater on staff had been back to replace it in time for his midnight jaunt. Sev spent much of the walk contemplating ways to monitor who came back to collect it afterwards, but decided there were none that were sufficiently risk-free.

As he walked, he became aware of curious depressions in the ground. All through the forest there were ruts as if somebody had rolled something with a very wide wheel, or else dragged something heavy. He puzzled over them, but couldn't bring to mind any activity on Hogwarts grounds that could have caused them. Still, there was no telling what lurked within the bounds of the Forbidden Forest...

The teachers all liked to frighten students with tales of the horrible things that could happen if they strayed into the forest, but Sev always had his wits about him. He had a light tread, and he knew how to keep his eyes open; nothing would take him by surprise.

Nothing did, and he made it to the Portkey clearing without seeing anything more menacing than a hedgehog. He knelt down, and pressed two fingers to the surface of the Portkey.

The world fuzzed out and faded in, and he found himself back once more in what he was fairly convinced was Durmstrang School of Wizardry. This time, however, he had materialised not in a nondescript corridor somewhere, but at the base of Voldemort's tower itself.

He looked up into the steely-grey eyes of Professor Dolohov. "Professor," he said with a nod.

"Mr. Snape." Dolohov's voice contained neither warmth nor dislike, only indifference. "He wishes to see you. You know the way."

Snape did. As he mounted the steps, he could feel a small circle of growing heat on his left arm, as if he was resting it against a boiling cauldron. He pushed back the sleeve, and saw that the Dark Mark tattooed there was turning from red back to black.

The upper chambers were dark, but his eyes adjusted quickly enough. "Lord Voldemort," he said, stepping inside.

The handsome Death Eater leader, seated in the far corner, looked him up and down, and nodded. "Ah, Snape. You came."

"I was summoned."

Voldemort nodded, and leaned forward lazily, resting his chin on one hand. "I've heard some interesting rumours."

"About the poison and the Gryffindor Prefects," acknowledged Sev. Voldemort was sharp, very much so, and lying or playing with distraction tactics could be deadly.

"Indeed. Would you care to explain your actions?"

The casually interrogative tone was laced with hidden danger. Sev simply looked him in the eye, and gave his explanation in neatly clipped sentences. "There was a miscalculation. I saw that the poison was adapted from the powder Malfoy used; it was only supposed to affect mudbloods. However, I saw that it had jumped to Potter - and Potter is as pureblood as they come, however... misguided his attitudes. An antidote had to be developed, and I thought it best that I make it myself than allow another to study the poison."

"And why cure the victims?"

"They're two lives, and not important ones. Too insignificant to risk the cause for."

Voldemort leaned back into the shadows, his expression betraying nothing. Sev kept his own as flat, prepared to hold it as long as necessary. After a moment, the Death Eater leader smiled thinly.

"And that, Snape," he said quietly, "is where you and Malfoy differ. He's quick to fire; you're as cool as ice. Tell me, which is better?"

That was a trick question if ever he'd heard one. "Both. Neither," he shrugged. "Different tools for different jobs."

"Interesting." Voldemort still smiled. "Malfoy would have me get rid of you if he could," he pointed out. Sev nodded and shrugged again. "But you would have me keep hold of him? Why?"

"Everybody has their uses."

"Indeed. Indeed, they do." Voldemort stood up. Sev had already obtained much of what would be his full adult height, but the Death Eater leader was far taller. "And I think I will have many uses for you, Severus Snape." He looked Snape up and down. "Provided you still have use for us." His dark eyes fixed on the Prefect badge that held his cloak together. "I see they trust you. _Appreciate_ you. Perhaps you are beginning to think that you would be better off in their order than our one."

It was not quite a question, but Sev answered it anyway. "It seems that way now. It won't take long for them to show their true colours."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. We shall see." He nodded briskly. "You may go."

* * *

His second verbal dance with Voldemort had been as intricate as the first, but Sev was more concerned with what hadn't been said than what had.

Voldemort clearly hadn't believed that his helping of James and Lily had been some sign of rebellion - if he had, Sev would never have left Durmstrang alive. However, the Death Eater leader was clearly concerned that Sev wasn't in deep enough yet; he might still be lured away by the other side.

Sev had to allay those suspicions - preferably _without_ actually throwing himself in too much deeper. It would take some serious nastiness to make it so he had no choice but to be Voldemort's; far better, then, to give himself his own 'reason' for choosing that side. He had to pick his ground very carefully. Fortunately, a little revelation he'd had in the third year provided him with something of a clue as to how to go about it.

It was going to take a long-term approach; measured in months, because of the situation involved. And to achieve his aim, he was going to have to do something that didn't come at all naturally - be totally unsubtle.

It began with the full moon of February. He made a point of watching the base of the Whomping Willow, knowing what he would see but waiting for it anyway.

Sure enough, as dusk began to fall, he saw the procession of James, Sirius, Peter and Remus making their way to the deadly tree. Sirius poked with a stick at something he couldn't see, and the flailing limbs abruptly froze. The four of them ducked under the tree.

Sev waited, but it was a while after moonrise before three of the boys emerged. Interesting; very interesting. In the third year, they'd been looking for a way to stay down there. Obviously, they'd found it.

For anybody who _didn't_ know whatever secret they'd found, however, down there below the Whomping Willow would be a very dangerous place. Sev was counting on it.

The following day, he cornered Pete Pettigrew. The small Gryffindor had gained in confidence a great deal since he first started at Hogwarts, but he was still apt to cave under pressure.

"I saw you last night," he hissed. "Out in the grounds. Where were you going? What were you doing?"

Pete stuttered nervously, and Sirius rushed to his rescue. "Back off, Snape," he warned.

"I know you're up to something," he said darkly. "And I warn you, I _will_ find out what."

"Oh, put a sock in it," groaned Sirius, dragging his friend away. "Come on, Pete." But Sev spotted Remus hanging back, and looking very concerned.

Phase one of Operation Hatred was well underway.

* * *

Sev had twigged pretty early that what he needed was a cast iron reason for hating 'the good guys'. And, better yet, he had to do it in such a way that it seemed like their idea.

The four Gryffindor friends were all wild boys, but they had their differences; James was noble, Remus was smart, Peter was nervous and Sirius was impulsive. If he leaned on Peter, the other boy would spill the whole truth and ruin everything. If he went to James, he might well warn Sev out of doing something _too_ dangerous.

That left Sirius Black - an explosion waiting to happen. Sev just had to get all that explosive potential pointing in the right direction.

The chances of anyone realising he knew the truth if he followed them again next full moon were minuscule - but Sev was nothing if not cautious. He 'failed to notice' the March excursion, biding his time until after Easter.

The intervening months, however, he didn't put to waste. He used every opportunity to be 'caught' watching the Gryffindors with a pensive expression. He shadowed them around Hogsmeade on their weekend trips, and asked leading questions of the Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws - for of course, there was no way a Slytherin would be caught dead talking to Gryffindors directly.

All in all, there could be no doubt in the minds of the four boys that Severus Snape suspected they were up to something. However, they all - except perhaps Peter - shared that Gryffindor trait of belief in their own invincibility. They were Gryffindors - they could outsmart any stupid Slytherin any day of the week.

Sev knew all about that attitude - he was counting on it. Sirius, in particular, would be in love with the idea of pulling a double-cross on sneaky Snape.

So, when the full moon next rose over Hogwarts, Sev was there, watching from the shadows. And the following day, he cornered Sirius after Quidditch practise. He had known Sirius would be alone; he and James were both on the team, but James had been spending more and more time with Lily lately.

"I saw you last night," he said dangerously. "Down by the tree. Don't think you can hide it from me, I saw you go into the passage. Where were you going?"

"Shove it, Snape," Sirius insisted, pulling away from him.

"I could report you, you know." It was exactly the kind of petty, childish ploy that Sirius would think him more than capable of.

Sirius gave him a scathing look. "Your word against ours."

Sev shrugged, showing off his Slytherin badge. "I'm a Prefect."

"So's James. And he's a _Gryffindor_."

"Get some new prejudices, Black, this one's wearing pretty thin."

"Yeah? Well you're not exactly doing a lot to disprove it." He turned away to go.

"What's under the tree, Black?" Sev called after him. "What are you all hiding down there?"

Sirius simply shot him a less-than-friendly hand gesture, without looking back. But Sev was well satisfied. The seeds had been sown.

By this time next month, he would be ready to put his plan in action.


	5. Chapter 5

The month rolled past. Their year group at Hogwarts had settled into a quieter routine than previous years; OWLs were on their way, and even the Slytherin and Gryffindor gangs were sucked into exam prep.

Sev, of course, had little need for any kind of studying. He bided his time, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

It came. On the day of the full moon, he cornered Sirius again in the early morning.

"I've figured it out," he said with a tone of malicious triumph. "The passage, under the tree - it only opens on a full moon, doesn't it? It's your secret route into Hogsmeade."

Sirius scowled at him. "I don't know what you're talking about." But Sev could detect the faintest gleam of triumph in his eye; a little light that said _I know something you don't know._

Under the circumstances, Sev found that idea more than a little ironic.

The groundwork for his little trap had all been meticulously set. Now all that remained was to extend the bait... and see if Sirius snapped it up.

Sev leaned forward threateningly. "I know about your little passage, Black. Lie to my face all you like; it won't make a knut's worth of difference if I report you, and you know it." He gave a nasty grin that was modelled on one of Malfoy's finest. "Tell me how to get in, Black. Tell me how the passage works, and maybe I won't bother bringing a premature end to your worthless school career." He smiled thinly. "I somehow doubt you'll be here for much longer in any case."

That, of course, was a long way from being true. Sirius might be wild to the point of dangerousness, but he was also quick-witted and a surprising natural at passing exams.

Also, apparently, he wasn't too bad at acting, for he managed to pull off a picture of sullen resentment quite well. Of course, that was close to his natural state half the time. Sev blamed it on excess testosterone.

"There's a knot," he said gruffly. "On the trunk. You poke it with a stick."

"Thank you," said Snape, obnoxiously.

Sirius scowled darkly. "You try and stick me with this, Snape, they'll be pulling bits of you out of the lake for the next _decade_."

"Stop it, you're scaring me," said Sev completely flatly as he walked away. Sirius' shoulders tensed, but he didn't turn back. No doubt because he was hiding a smile of triumph at a trap well sprung.

Sev, on the other hand, was far too practised at this to let any such sign show on the surface.

* * *

The year was on the first edge of summer, and it was late before it began to get dark. Sev lurked silently in the grounds, a safe distance from the Whomping Willow. He had cast an enchantment that made him unnoticeable to anyone who wasn't specifically looking, but he doubted it was needed. The Gryffindor boys were entirely too self-centred, anyway.

James had an invisibility cloak - or rather, Lily did, though Sev doubted she would ever refuse to loan it to him - but they weren't using it when they finally appeared. They were all sixteen or nearly there by now; Pete Pettigrew might be small, but Sirius was built like an athlete and the other two were tall. There was no way all four of them could fit under that cloak, Sev knew without a doubt; after all, it had once been in his possession.

As it happened, though, the boys were making no attempt at being sneaky. They were bombing it across the grass as if there were a swarm of dragons on their tail, Remus in the lead.

"Idiot!" he heard Sirius snap, his voice carrying clearly through the still dusk air.

"I _said_ I'm sorry." That was James.

"Back there necking with your girlfriend, man, the _moon_'s nearly up!"

"I was _not_," he objected.

"Do I care?" Remus's voice was strained almost beyond all recognition. "Open it, open it, open it, bloody hell-"

"There!" A little figure that had to be Peter ducked in under the flailing branches and they abruptly came to a halt. Remus dived right over him and into the secret passage. The others tumbled in after him; laughing, Sev was sure, at their narrow escape.

They were used to playing with fire, although never on the grand scale of peril that _he_ was accustomed to. Whatever trouble they got into, they wriggled their way out of it; they'd never truly had their fingers burned.

Tonight, he intended to give them a little taste of what that was like.

The boys clearly had some way of dealing with Remus when he was under the influence of the moon. Sev was curious, as he always was about anything he didn't know, but he wasn't about to compromise his plan by busting in while the other three were still down there. It would bring a much better confrontation, but for that very reason it would be too suspicious. He was the cruel, devious boy who spied on them and threw curses; they would expect him to sneak, not confront.

Well, he would sneak. He would wait for them to emerge from under the tree, and then go down himself. And then he would 'narrowly escape' what lay beneath - and scream blue murder about it.

It wasn't long before three boyish figures emerged where four had gone in. The Gryffindors might feel the need to show their solidarity with Remus, but they couldn't stay down there all night; they had to sleep sometime.

Sev watched them go, and immediately left his hiding place and headed for the Whomping Willow. He had a hunch Sirius might stick around to watch for him; best to make his move before the other boy got bored and wandered off. It would definitely be handy to have someone to shout at when he emerged...

The limbs of the Whomping Willow resumed their usual flailing. Sev had spent some time watching them, a few years back; so far as he could tell, there was no pattern to the motion at all. If you didn't know the tree's secret, there was no way you could get past them.

Sev spotted the knot Sirius had described almost instantly. It was low down on the trunk, close to the ground - well below eye-level. Smart. Sev suspected Dumbledore's hand in this; it had been the headmaster who had wanted the Whomping Willow planted in the first place. He was fairly sure it had been with the sole intent of providing a safe place for Lupin to stay during the full moon.

Sev drew his wand, and reversed it in his hand to reach out and poke the knot - only an idiot poked things with the business end of a wand. The tree immediately froze.

The hole the boys had disappeared into, he could see from this close, was masquerading as a simple gap between the roots. It was narrow and low, and if anybody had seen it at all they would have thought it an animal burrow. But who would be stupid enough to come so close to the highly dangerous tree?

Sev got down on his belly and squirmed through the hole. It was an easy enough fit for him, although the broad-shouldered Sirius probably had trouble. He slide down a slope inside to end up on his knees in a very low tunnel.

"_Lumos._" He lit the wand with a low whisper, and looked about. There was little to see; the tunnel stretched out in front of him, a good foot too low for him to walk upright. From the general direction, it was clearly headed for Hogsmeade.

Another piece of the puzzle suddenly slotted into place. The Shrieking Shack. Lately, a legend had sprung up about some howling beast that haunted an abandoned shack in Hogsmeade. Sev was willing to bet that the howling was only heard on nights when the moon was full...

It was quicker to scuttle on his hands and knees than try to move at a stoop. And he would need to be quick; he had a number of tactics in mind for facing the creature he would meet at the other end, but he wasn't sure how well they were going work. Any books he could find were notoriously stingy with information on the subject; generally speaking, their defences were of the "kill it before it kills you" variety.

It would be considerably safer to lurk in the tunnels and then come out _pretending_ to have encountered Lupin, but everything in Snape's calculating nature rebelled against it. He doubted very much Sirius Black was sitting up there timing his journey to make sure he took long enough, but Sev felt obliged to do this properly anyway. He hadn't got as far as he had by being half-hearted with his deceptions.

Besides which, he wasn't sure whether or not Lupin would remember the events of a full moon night. All the books said no, but whilst Sev worshipped books, he trusted them little more than he did people. The key to surviving was to take nothing on face value.

The tunnel went on for a long time; he was mentally gauging it against the length of his own secret passage into Hogsmeade. Soon, surely...? The tunnel suddenly began to slope upwards.

Warily, now, Sev drew his wand and slowed to a creep.

There was a change in the air of the tunnel; the stir of a minor breeze. He was right at the end of the passageway. He moved towards the gap, caught the slightest glint of light in a dark, beady eye surrounded by coarse fur, and then...

Everything exploded into motion. The werewolf ahead of him let out a sound that was more like a scream than a howl, and scrabbled madly at the tunnel entrance as if trying to remember how to pass through it. At the same time, somebody grabbed him by the back of the collar and yanked him backwards.

"Snape! _Run_!"

It was James Potter.

The two boys scrambled back through the tunnel at high speed. Sev could hear and feel hot, heavy breath directly behind him, but the werewolf seemed to be so huge it was having trouble squeezing itself along the tunnel. James had him by the shoulder, half-pushing, half-dragging him along.

The tunnel was barely wide enough for the two of them to run abreast, especially stooped as they were. He still had his wand in his hand, but if he stopped to cast a spell the beast would be upon them.

There was no time to say anything, and neither he nor James were particularly inclined to stop and chat. They pounded through the tunnel, hardly able to breath in the clouds of dust kicked up by their feet, and once Sev heard James curse loudly as he cracked his head on the ceiling.

The end of the tunnel seemed to come upon them unexpectedly, and James threw himself at it, squirming up through the opening like some kind of burrowing animal. Sev wondered how many times he and the others had done this mad dash when their attempts at calming the werewolf had failed or backfired.

Then James's hands were thrust back through the hole, and he yanked Sev up out of it. His back scraped all along the bottom of the tree roots, and as James pulled him away from the tree one of the flailing branches cracked against his shoulder.

They both collapsed on the grass. James was breathing raggedly, and it took a moment for him to push himself up onto his hands and turn to look at Snape. "Bloody hell, man, are you okay?"

This, right here, was the defining moment. The natural, human instinct would be to check his injuries, mutter some quick meaningless phrase like "Yeah, I think so." It was the automatic response to going through such a blur of chaotic action.

With barely a hesitation, Sev thrust aside all such instincts and drew himself up, fire in his eyes. "You set me up!" he spat.

"I- I- what?" Confusion turned to indignation. "I _saved_ you, man! You could have been _killed_!"

"Whose fault was that?" he demanded at the top of his voice. "You think this was _funny_?"

"I came in after you!" James was shouting, too, now, having forgotten that it was night and neither of them had permission to be out.

"Oh, so that makes it okay? Never mind that I could have been _torn limb from limb_ by that _creature_ in there-"

"Hey-!"

"He's a monster, man! Your _friend_ is a monster!" Sev wasn't nearly as stupidly ignorant as to believe all the rubbish that was spouted about werewolves. He knew Remus Lupin well enough, saw that in spite of - probably because of - his deep, dark secret, Remus was an extremely gentle-natured, pacifistic boy. However, a little bit of irrational prejudice was a handy thing to throw into the mix right now. The last thing he needed was James calming down enough to keep this civilised.

Predictably, James exploded. He'd risked his life rescuing Snape from the jaws of death - he wasn't about to take this kind of abuse in return. "_Sort. Your head out. Man._ It's your own damn fault! If you hadn't been _poking_ your nose in-"

"_My_ fault? You let that, that _monster_ on school grounds and it's _my_ fault when it tries to kill me?"

"If you hadn't been following us around, _spying_ on us-"

"Oh, yeah? Was I down there by accident? Your _friend_ Black _told_ me how to get down there. Was that me poking my nose in? No, that's premeditated _murder_, that is!"

"Oh, are you dead, are you? No, you're not!" He and James were face to face now, the Gryffidor boy's face red with fury. "Why not? Because _I_ went down and saved you!"

"Oh, yeah, you're a _real_ hero-"

"Hey! _Hey_! What the in the _seven fires of hell_ is going on here?" At last, their rapidly-escalating shouting match had done what Snape had intended it to - got them some attention. As luck would have it, it was Professor Malachite.

He came looming out of the darkness from the direction of the Forbidden Forest, with thunder in his face. "Potter!" he snapped angrily when he saw James. He came to a dead halt when he realised who the other shouter was. "_Severus_? What in Merlin's name is going on here?"

"He tried to kill me!" Sev snapped, careful to sound merely furious, not hysterical - Malachite knew him too well to accept that.

"I saved his life!" James shouted right back. Malachite stood there for a long moment, looking from one boy to the other. Finally he snapped his fingers in a moment of decision.

"Both of you, come with me. We're going to the headmaster."


	6. Chapter 6

The three of them made their way down to Dumbledore's office in absolute silence. Anyone who had seen the two fuming teenagers would never have been able to tell that the anger of one was considerably less genuine than that of the other.

Malachite kept giving them both suspicious looks, especially Snape, but had the sense not to try and break the silence. He led them down to the headmaster's office, and spoke the password, "Pumpkin Fizz", with as much gravity as he was able to give it. Neither of his young charges was particularly inclined to snigger at the incongruity.

Despite the lateness of the hour, Dumbledore was sitting at his desk, and he didn't seem particularly surprised to see them. He looked up at Professor Malachite. "Ah, Carnus. Trouble?"

"I caught these two out in the grounds by the Whomping Willow, making a racket. Prefects, no less." He sniffed disapprovingly, a gesture Sev suspected owed a lot to his thwarted attempts to raise the profile of house Slytherin. His favoured Prefect misbehaving after hours would hardly help his case.

Sev made his voice the iciest he could make it. "_I_ was just doing my job; checking up on students out of bed after hours. Why don't you ask Potter what _he_ was doing out?"

That shook James out of his self-imposed brooding. He gaped at Sev in disbelief. "What-? I saved your _life_, you arrogant little-"

"Potter!" snapped Professor Malachite.

"If it hadn't been for you and your little _jokes_, my life would never have been in danger," Sev said pointedly.

"Yeah? Well, if you hadn't been-"

"Gentlemen," said Professor Dumbledore calmly. James subsided, and the headmaster nodded to the Slytherin head of house. "Carnus? If you'd like to give us a minute?"

By the look on his face, Professor Malachite didn't _like_ that idea much at all, but he nodded brusquely and left the office. As he left, however, his glare was directed at James, and Sev knew he had already made up his mind who was the guilty party. It never took much to convince Professor Malachite the Slytherins were being blamed unfairly.

Handling Malachite had never been the issue, however. It was from Dumbledore that he would have to take his cue on how to handle this.

The Hogwarts headmaster straightened his desk for a few moments, humming to himself and seemingly having forgotten that he had an audience. Then, abruptly, he looked up at the two of them with a sharp blue gaze. "The Whomping Willow, James?" he asked lightly.

James shifted uncomfortably from foot to foot. "He went down in the passage," he admitted. It was clear that those who knew Lupin's secret had been supposed to keep it that way.

Dumbledore steeped his hands thoughtfully. "And how did he know how to get in?" he asked, in that same calmly inquisitive tone. James's fidgeting grew more pronounced.

"Sirius told him," he admitted to the floor.

"A rather _dangerous_ little prank, don't you think?"

"Yes, headmaster," James said to his feet. Sev decided this was round about his cue.

"I'd hardly call it a _prank_," he said sharply. "That seems a little... mild for something which nearly killed me. By all rights, they should both be expelled." He didn't for one moment expect that to happen, but nonetheless he should probably call for it.

Dumbledore turned his attention to Snape. His eyes were coolly blue and unreadable. "How did you find out about the tunnel under the tree, Severus?"

"I saw them going down there."

"'They' would be Remus and Ms. Pomfrey, I presume?" That gave him pause, though an observer wouldn't have noticed it.

Poppy Pomfrey was the young assistant to Madame Florence in the hospital wing, slated to take over when the old matron retired next year. Clearly she was the one supposed to be in charge of leading Lupin down to the Whomping Willow. Perhaps she did so, sometimes, but other nights it was no doubt easier to hand off the duty to Lupin's ever-so-helpful young friends.

Odd that Dumbledore wouldn't know that more often than not the Gryffindor boys were down there of a full moon. Unlikely, even; he might not know what they were doing down there, but he was far too observant not to notice that they went. It was almost as if he was trying to play down James and Sirius's involvement.

Interesting... A taste of pro-Gryffindor bias, or was he playing games as complicated as any of Sev's own?

Dumbledore's deceptively open face gave no readable clue. Sev gave a sullen shrug and shifted the conversation. "I saw Remus go down," he agreed. "And I saw what he turned into."

"I am aware of Remus Lupin's... condition," Dumbledore informed him. Sev hadn't for a moment supposed he hadn't been. "I know about the arrangement with the Whomping Willow, and I have every confidence in its safety."

James was nodding self-importantly, but Sev quickly shot him down. "With _respect_, headmaster," he said pointedly, "I would hardly call _any_ venture safe that has one of these reckless idiots at the centre of it."

"Hey!" James, predictably, was more offended by the insult to his friends than to himself. "Remus isn't reckless-"

"Oh, nearly killing your schoolmates makes you the model of self-restraint, does it?"

"It was after moonrise! He didn't know anything about it and you know it!"

"Ah, I see. So you and Sirius cooked up this little plot without _telling_ him that he was going to commit murder?"

James's mouth worked silently for a moment; he was caught in a self-made web of honour and loyalty - a far sticker web than any of deception. He knew that Sev had a point about the position that Sirius had put the innocent Lupin in. However, the only other argument he could make was to tell the truth - that he hadn't been involved - and drop Sirius in it.

"We didn't- It was just-"

"It wasn't _just_ anything," Snape told him. "It was _nearly_ murder. Your little last-minute change of heart doesn't change anything."

"Everything changes something," said the headmaster quietly. He looked at James. "James, what you did tonight was very brave... and also very ill-advised. I am pleased that you acted as promptly as you did - and very disappointed that the situation should have come to that. Do I make myself clear?"

James was back on studying the floor. "Yes, headmaster."

"So I should think. You may go."

Sev did his best to look disbelieving. "What? I-"

"I'll talk to you _and_ Sirius in the morning," the headmaster continued. "I'd like Remus to be there as well." James flushed scarlet; that had cut like nothing else. Sev suspected Remus might not be best pleased about the position Sirius had put him in...

"Carnus!" From the speed at which the Slytherin head appeared when Dumbledore called, and the thundery look on his face, he had almost certainly been listening at the door. Dumbledore didn't seem to mind, and had probably expected it. "If you could escort Mr. Potter back to his dorm, please?"

"You're not deducting any points?" he asked tightly.

"No, and I will not be. From _either_ house," he elaborated firmly. "This has been an unfortunate incident, but it could only get more unfortunate if Remus's secret is exposed before the school." He nodded at Snape. "Severus, if you'd like to stay behind for a moment."

They waited as the other two departed, and then Dumbledore turned that powerful gaze on the young Slytherin. "An interesting stunt," he observed neutrally, after a long pause.

"On whose part?" he asked carefully. He dialled down the spitting fury, sure that Dumbledore could see through it.

"You certainly won't have endeared yourself to Remus and Sirius," Dumbledore said lightly, not quite answering the question.

Sev smiled thinly. "Not one of my major goals in life."

"So I've noticed." He rested his bearded chin on his folded hands. "Indeed, those are some interesting goals you have."

"Everybody has a job to do."

"Hmm, yes. You seem to have assigned yours to yourself."

"Somebody had to do it," he countered.

"Why you?"

"Who better?"

"Indeed." Dumbledore leaned back in his chair. "There are people," he said heavily, "who would be horrified at the idea of a young man of your age setting himself the task you have. They would argue that nobody of your age has the wherewithal to accomplish it - and nor should they."

"People do love their illusions." He shrugged. "That's what makes them who they are. And what makes me what they're not."

"Not all illusions are bad," Dumbledore informed him. "After all, what is childhood but a happy time when the world is whatever you choose to make it?"

"I really wouldn't know," said Sev.

"No," said the headmaster quietly. "Perhaps you wouldn't." He rubbed his beard slowly. "By all rights, I should forbid you to do this."

"But you won't," said Snape pointedly.

Dumbledore sighed heavily. "Some illusions are only that. And fools walk away from golden opportunities."

"And you're not a fool."

"On the contrary." The headmaster's mood brightened as he pushed himself up from his desk. "I consider myself the biggest fool in the place; and that, I assure you, is no hollow victory. You'll find - indeed, no doubt you know already - that most people are fools, Mr. Snape."

"I'm not," he pointed out neutrally.

"Indeed you're not," Dumbledore agreed. "A great pity. Still, you're young yet, and perhaps you will learn to be a deal less wise in your old age."

"Most people do," Sev said dryly.

"Indeed!" The headmaster laughed heartily, and opened the door for him. "Come to me again, after the exams are over. I'd like to speak with you again before you leave for the summer."

* * *

The story of Snape and James's midnight exploits was a closely guarded secret - which meant, of course, that it was all over the school in record time. Nobody knew the true story, but everybody was well aware that there had been some kind of huge bust-up after hours.

Malfoy was the only one Sev gave any detail to, although he didn't offer much. "They tried to kill me," he said tightly. "The teachers can call it a prank all they like, but I know better."

Malfoy nodded knowingly, and gave just a little flash of a smirk. "Soon enough," he assured him. "They've been lucky so far, but soon enough their luck will run out. They'll get what's coming to them."

"We all will," Sev agreed.

With the OWLs suddenly upon them, there was little time for any kind of socialising. James Potter scowled at him in passing a few times, and Sirius Black's looks were particularly venomous - partly, Sev was sure, because he was feeling at least a little ashamed of himself, and was willing to die before he admitted it.

The exams themselves gave him as little trouble as he would have expected. What was remembering an incantation against the intricacies of the stories within stories he was weaving?

The library was full of panicking students as the exams approached, but they emptied out as late revision became too late, and the summer weather beckoned. The place was all but deserted on the last week of term when Remus Lupin approached him.

Sev regarded him with his flattest expression - he'd expected this to come sooner or later. "Yes."

Remus hesitated, almost shyly, but he was a Gryffindor, with the courage that came with it. "I'm sorry," he said simply. "For what nearly happened. I wanted to say I'm sorry."

Of course, the only sensible reply was that it couldn't in any way have been his fault - but that wasn't the game he was playing. "Your apology means nothing to me. You want to do something about it, I suggest you find yourself some better friends."

"Sirius is... Sirius," Remus shrugged helplessly.

"Well, that was certainly... profound," he said sarcastically. "The boy tried to kill me, and at your expense. Anyone who tries to kill will kill again. Maybe you should be a little more... selective about who you hang around with."

"It was an accident," said Remus, a little too stubbornly. He changed the subject. "And... thank you. For not telling anyone."

"What do I care?" he shrugged. "You want to keep your little secret, go ahead. You don't really think you can hide forever, do you?"

Lupin's eyes were troubled for a moment, but he quickly shook it off. "I'll survive," he said, shrugging back.

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Either way, it's nothing to me." He turned back to his books, and after a moment's hesitation Remus moved away.

* * *

He returned to Dumbledore's office on the last day of term. The headmaster was sitting waiting for him. "Ah, Severus. You came."

"Of course I did." He sat down opposite the headmaster.

"Yes. I'm sure there are some who would disagree, but I think that in truth you are... very reliable."

"That depends who's relying on me," Sev shrugged.

"Indeed." Dumbledore laughed, and then abruptly turned serious. "There will come a day, you know, when nobody trusts a word you say."

"That's not today?" he asked wryly.

"What is your knowledge worth, if nobody will listen?" asked the headmaster rhetorically. He looked over the top of his glasses at Snape. "Come to me. When the day comes that you find that nobody trusts you, come to me. Because I think I know you, better than anyone else here could claim to. And I'll know whether or not to trust you."

Sev raised a single eyebrow. "With all due respect, headmaster... if you know me that well, then you should know that I don't need to turn to anybody."

"People change," Dumbledore shrugged.

"Not me."

"Perhaps not. Who knows what the future will hold?"

"People who look forward?"

The headmaster laughed. "Oh yes, indeed." He nodded. "That's why I called you here today. I need you to look forward for me, and find me a foolproof solution."

"You know you have a Death Eater on your staff," Sev surmised. Dumbledore nodded.

"I know. But they don't know I know. Or perhaps they do know, but I don't know that they know. Perhaps."

"Perhaps a lot of things," Sev agreed. "Do you know who it is?"

"I have my suspicions." He peered over his glasses. "And so do you. There's no fool like an old fool, and I'd rather hear you work it out yourself than tell you and be wrong."

Sev shrugged. "I wouldn't have believed it anyway. I have to see things for myself."

Dumbledore nodded. "Perhaps you're right, and I trust too much... and perhaps you trust too little. Between us, mayhaps, we may end up pointed in the right direction."

"Is that what you're doing? Pointing me in the right direction?"

"I doubt very much that anybody points Severus Snape anywhere he doesn't plan to go. No, I am just a teacher; I guide, but never lead. And," he added with a smile, "sometimes I give homework. And this is yours; bring me a way to catch the spy on my staff. Do you think you can do that?"

Severus quirked an eyebrow. "Have I ever failed a homework assignment yet?"

Dumbledore gave him a slight nod of acknowledgement. He turned, and left the office to go and catch the train.

**End**


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